Steven Brust - Jhereg

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    Jhereg
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She listened patiently to my monologue, then gave me a cynical smile. “Somehow,” she said, “I’ll manage.”

I decided to change the subject. There was only one other thing I had to try—and that was liable to get me killed. I didn’t really feel like doing it, so I asked, “Where is Sethra, by the way?”

“She’s returned to Dzur Mountain.”

“Eh? Why?”

Aliera studied the floor for a while, then turned her attention back to the cat. “She’s getting ready.”

“For . . . ”

“A war,” said Aliera.

Just wonderful. “She thinks it will come to that?”

Aliera nodded. “I didn’t tell her what I plan on doing, so she’s assuming it’s going to happen.”

“And she wants to make sure that the Dragons win, eh?”

Aliera gave me a look. “It isn’t our custom,” she explained, “to fight to lose.”

I sighed. Well, now or never, I decided.

Hey, boss, you don’t want to do that.

You’re right. But it’s what I’m paid for. Now shut up.

“One final thing, Aliera,” I said.

Her eyes narrowed; I guess she picked up something from the tone of my voice. “And that is . . . ?”

“I still work for Morrolan. He pays me, and I therefore owe him a certain amount of loyalty. What you propose doing is in direct violation of his wishes. I won’t let you do it.”

And, just like that, even as I finished speaking, Pathfinder was in her hand, its point level with my chest. She measured me coolly with her eyes. “Do you think you can stop me, Jhereg?”

I matched her gaze. “Probably not,” I admitted. What the hell? Looking at her, I could see that she was prepared to kill me at once. “If you do, Aliera, Loiosh will kill your cat.”

No response. Sheesh! Sometimes I think Aliera has no sense of humor at all.

I looked down the length of the blade. Two feet separated it from my chest—and my soul, which had once been her brother’s. I recalled a time, it seemed like ages now, when I had been in a similar position with Morrolan. Then, as now, my thoughts had turned to figuring out which weapon was closest. A poison dart would be a waste of time. My poison works fast, but not that fast. I’d have to hit a nerve. Fat chance. I was going to have to go for a kill—anything else wouldn’t do. My odds that time had been poor. This time they were worse. At least Morrolan didn’t have his weapon out.

I looked back to her eyes. A person’s eyes are the first things that let you know when he is about to make a move. I felt the hilt of the dagger up my right sleeve—point out. A sharp, downward motion would be required, and it would be in my hand; an upward motion after that would have it on the way to her throat. From this range, I couldn’t miss. From this range, neither could she. I’d probably be dead before she was, and they wouldn’t be able to revivify me.

Just say the word, boss. I’ll be at her eyes before —”

Thanks, but hold, for now.

That last time, Morrolan had changed his mind about killing me because he’d had a use for me, and I’d stopped just short of mortal insult. This time, I felt sure, Aliera would not change her mind—once she decided on a course of action she was as stubborn in pursuing it as I was. After all, I thought bitterly, in an odd sort of way we were related.

I readied myself for action—I would have to get the drop on her to have any chance at all, so there was no point in waiting. It was odd; I realized that everything I’d been doing since I’d spoken to the Demon had been directed either at finding a way to kill Mellar, or risking my life to prevent someone from solving my problem.

I timed my breathing and studied her. Ready, now . . . wait . . . I stopped. What the Hell are you doing, Vlad? Kill Aliera? Be killed by her? What, by the Great Sea of Chaos, would that solve? Sure, Vlad, sure. Good thinking. All we need now is for you to kill a guest of Morrolan’s—and the wrong one at that! Sure, all we need now is for Aliera to be dead. That would—

“Wait a minute!” I said. “I’ve got it!”

“You’ve got what?” she asked coolly. She wasn’t taking any chances on me—she knew what a tricky bastard I was.

“Actually,” I said in a more normal tone of voice, “you’ve got it.”

“And what, pray tell, have I got?”

“A Great Weapon,” I said.

“Yes, I certainly do,” she admitted, not giving an inch.

“A weapon,” I continued, “that is irrevocably linked to your soul.”

She waited calmly for me to go on, Pathfinder still pointed straight at my heart.

I smiled, and for the first time in days, I actually meant it. “You aren’t going to kill Mellar, my friend. He’s going to kill you!

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16

“The adding of a single thread changes the garment.”

There was absolutely no question about it: I was doing too much teleporting these last few days. I forced myself to take a few minutes to relax at the teleport area for my office building, then went charging up the stairs like a dzur on the hunt. I skimmed past my secretary before he had time to unload mundane business on me and said, “Get Kragar up here. Now.”

I stepped into the office and plumped down. Time for some hard thinking. By the time my stomach had settled, the details of the plan were beginning to work themselves out. Timing would have to be precise, but that was nothing new. There were a few things I would have to check on, to make sure they could be done, but these I’d make sure of in advance, and maybe I could find a way around any problems that turned up.

I realized that I was also going to have to depend a lot more on other people than I was at all comfortable with, but life is full of risks.

I started ticking off points, when I realized that Kragar was sitting there, waiting for me to notice him. I sighed. “What’s the news today, Kragar?”

“The rumor mill is about to explode—it’s leaking from several directions.”

“Bad?”

“Bad. We aren’t going to be able to keep this under our cloaks for very long; there’s too much going on. And the bodies didn’t help either.”

“Bodies?”

“Yeah. Two bodies turned up this morning. Both sorceresses, Left Hand.”

“Oh. Right. One of them would be the one we discussed before.”

“Yeah. I don’t know who the other one was. My guess is that the Demon found someone else who was spreading too many rumors.”

“Could be. Was she killed with a single dagger blow to the heart?”

He looked startled. “Yes, she was. How did you know?”

“And there was a spell on her to prevent revivification, right?”

“Right. Who was she, Vlad?”

“I never learned her name, but she was just what you said, a sorceress from the Left Hand. She was involved in setting up and taking out Morrolan, and he took it personally. I didn’t actually know that it would be single shot to the heart, but that’s how he was nailed, and he does have a certain sense of poetic justice.”

“I see.”

“Anything else worth noting?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I wouldn’t go outside today, if I were you.”

“Oh? What did you hear?”

“It seems that the Demon doesn’t like you.”

“Oh, wonderful. How did you find this out?”

“We have a few friends in his organization, and they’ve heard rumors.”

“Great. Has he hired anyone?”

“No way of being sure, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Terrific. Maybe I’ll invite him over for a friendly game of ‘Spin the Dagger,’ and let the whole thing get settled that way.”

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